Willingly Snared in the Widow's Web
by Major Mike Powell III
Summary: Co-op With Kamen Rider Omega: the widow's web, the Widowmaker's web, which Tracer broke through and in which she lovingly snared herself after she made Widowmaker feel again, after making Amélie return. This is just another of many a rendezvous, rendezvous away from the battlefield. Just Amélie and Lena, Tracer and Widowmaker, reveling in their love. Read'n Enjoy!


**Willingly Snared in the Widow's Web**

 **By Kamen Rider Omega and Major Mike Powell III**

A door having been slammed shut, hands exploring beautiful, curvaceous bodies clad in even-more alluring outfits. Lips explored lips as the two women momentarily lost themselves to a long kiss that left them both panting for air after breaking away.

Tracer and Widowmaker shared several more kisses, gentle, soft caresses of lips as they relished in their alone time together, away from the chaos, away from the battlefield. Just the two of them in a fine hotel suite. They were not sworn enemies here. Here, together, just the two of them? They were lovers.

Tracer sighed as she hugged the pale violet-skinned woman close.

"I hate that we have to shoot at each other, luv…" she said in her cockney accent, the French sniper giggling at her words and, unbeknownst to Tracer, she was wiggling her fingers. "At least you know that I always miss and-Bugger all, luv, oi! Hands off the merchandise~!" Tracer's whine may have convinced anybody other than Widowmaker, except that it was Widowmaker holding Tracer in her arms and it was the Frenchwoman's hands finding a happy home on her shorter counterpart's magnificent British arse.

"Oh come now cherri, you and I both know zat you like zis sort of attention when we are alone~"

The Brit whined a bit more, before burying her face in the cold crook of Widowmaker's neck, nuzzling the spot where skin met skin-tight bodysuit. Amélie's hands on her internet-shattering posterior felt just **so** bloody amazing and Lena's arse was **so** utterly sensitive and totally one of her weak points.

"After all, I do so have yet to properly zank you, Lena..." Widowmaker's voice a thickly-accented French purr, she spoke with affection and gratitude. Gratitude for what, exactly? Well, _Amélie_ was back.

The woman that was before Widowmaker took over, before the bastards of Talon took her away and then, broke her.

She was back, all thanks to Lena, callsign "Tracer", of the Overwatch Force.

And how was it that Tracer broke through the Widowmaker's web?

"Eeeeeasyyyy luv!" Lena half moaned/half gasped out, her body shuddering from the attention her backside was getting. "I don't want to zap away while getting frisky!"

One reason was that sweet voice of hers, that beautiful cockney accent of hers. Lena made Amélie return by teasing and flirting and being a pain in her ass on every mission she went on, and Lena made Amélie **feel** again.

The other reason?

Tracer cried out loudly, unable to keep her voice down.

"You made me miss~" Widowmaker purred in Tracer's ears, nibbling gently on the earlobe. "I never miss."

"Haaah...sheesh, talk 'bout a sore loooo-ohfuck!"

"None of zat lip, cherri~" the Frenchwoman playfully chided while punctuating the statement with an all-too-welcome slap to Tracer's yellow-clad tush, the thin material doing virtually nothing to suppress the force of the hard-but-loving smack.

Tracer was just about to lose her bloody mind, quickly becoming a blubbering, hot mess in Widowmaker's arms, grasping at whatever place of the Frenchwoman's body as she could: her plump hips, her slim waist, her back, her upper thigh. Tracer's hot, raspy breaths tickled the sniper's collarbone as her skilled hands and nimble fingers rendered Tracer into this beautiful, adorable creature trapped in her web of pleasure, all thanks to that sweet, sensitive British tush of hers.

Despite having the time of her life playing with Tracer's ass, Widowmaker could tell there was something the Brit was trying desperately to say and thus, the woman in the violet bodysuit slowed down her handling of Tracers ass.

"Oh bugger all to Hell and back, Amélie! I don't care if you have to do it through my trousers, just finish me already!"

There was no denying the smug grin of victory on Amélie's purple lips, but if anything, it was a victory worth sharing, so she relinquished her hold on Tracer's ass to cup her hot-blushing cheeks and pull her up, giving the Brit a sweet, gentle kiss as a "reward" for being honest.

"Ask and you shall receive, mon cherri~" she purred into Lena's ear, before turning the woman around, forcing her to bend over the bed and then, she began kissing her lips all over the brightly colored, ultra-tight material that made up her lover's bottoms.

"A wonder your little kitten doesn't show through, considering how lovingly zese tights cling to your cul."

Tracer whined and she felt her womanhood squirt out just a bit of love-juice, staining the crotch of her tights. She also had to fumble with her ballistic goggles so that she wouldn't blur her own vision with tears of bliss and joy.

"S-Shiiiite...Mels...c'mon, knock it off and leave my twat be for now! Please, just...mmmmaahhh~!" Tracer screamed, lifting her torso a bit off the bed, her eyes wide and hazy, glazed over with lust as Amélie finally stopped **talking** and started **licking** her puckered hole through the fabric of her bright orange spandex.

The Frenchwoman in purple grinned as she licked Tracer's asshole just so, her spit making the fabric of the pants blocking her from Tracer's actual skin practically see-through, and thus, providing an incredible lubrication and friction to her oral ministrations on her Brit "prey's" backside.

Of course, the Brit in question was way more than happy to let the French assassin French-kiss her arse, as Tracer was just about to lose her mind to the lewd pleasure of Widowmaker's mouth working its magic between her lower cheeks.

Widowmaker was as effective a lover as she was a sniper, every movement perfectly calculated to bring maximum pleasure with minimal effort, not that she didn't enjoy this, far from it. She reveled in her skill at bringing her lover to such intense highs so easily. Judging from the shuddering and shaking of her lovers body, not to mention how she was shoving her ass back towards Amélie's face, her literal **ass-ault** was working like a charm. All she had to do now was hold onto the firm rump of her love as she finally came crashing down in wave after wave of pleasure.

And crash she did, letting out a high pitched squeal into a pillow, her whole body spasming in orgasm-driven desire. She was utterly overwhelmed by her love's work, and she couldn't have been happier.

When Widowmaker pulled her mouth and tongue off of Tracer's twitching and shuddering posterior, her golden eyes were granted the incredible vision of loveliness that was Tracer panting heavily, whimpering, her lower body still raised in the air, her front down on the bed, her face an absolute blushing mess, even a tiny sliver of drool peeking out of the corner of her mouth.

Amélie gently pulled the British woman so that her body was now laid out along the bed as opposed to across it, snuggling up behind the blushing Brit, making sure to gently wrap her arms around Lena's still shuddering form.

The Frenchwoman cuddled and spooned the Brit from behind, gently caressing her thighs, waist and lovely, perky breasts under her cool bomber jacket, nuzzling the back of her neck and laying kisses here and there.

Then, Tracer finally pulled herself together and turned around in Amélie's embrace, licking her lips as she did so.

Then, the next thing she was feeling were Tracer's lips on hers as the Brit gave her the most feverish, most passionate kiss of the evening so far.

And while Amélie was busy getting the soul kissed out of her by Tracer, she may or may not have failed to notice the fact that the Brit literally **tore** to shreds the crotch part of Widowmaker's own skin-tight, super-sexy violet bodysuit.

When the breeze coming from the quarter-open window of their hotel suite brushed against her sensitive, wet labia did Widowmaker's lust-hazy mind register the fact that she was now bottomless, leaving her long legs clad in "improvised" thigh-high stockings and boots.

"M-Mérde! Tracer, cherri, what the?! Zis suit is expensive, woman~!" The French sniper tried to sound like she was scolding Lena, but the Brit honestly didn't give a damn.

"Oh sod off! Send the repair bills to whoever gives a shite! You made me beg for your tongue in my arse and you made me cum harder than ever before in my life! Deal with it~!"

"You are lucky I love you, Lena…" Amélie whispered, as though saying it too loud would break the spell of their time together.

"As I do you, Amélie," her lover responded back, before diving down to begin her own attack on the violet skinned woman's tender nether lips.

The Widowmaker may not be completely familiar with feelings yet, but she was more than familiar with sensations, and sensations Tracer didn't fail to give: the Brit's mouth and lips and fingers on her exposed pussy made Amélie's whole body shudder and twitch; long moans, soft sighs and gasps filled the air as Tracer ate Widowmaker out, positioned between her spread legs while the Frenchwoman lay on her back on the bed, looking down at Tracer through the valley of her still-clothed cleavage, her purple lips curled in an honest smile.

Amélie's gaze was met and reciprocated by Lena's own as the Brit licked and sucked and even nibbled on her assassin lover's soaked lower labia.

"I love how your twat's a deeper color than the rest of your skin, especially this luvly little purple pleasure button~" Tracer said as she actually nibbled on the hyper-sensitive bundle of nerves just hard enough to make the sniper's hips buck multiple times in rapid succession.

Widowmaker's eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, and not only because of that little sensory overload on her clit, but by the fact that Tracer added three fingers into her slick, hot folds and then, Widowmaker registered that Lena was moaning too. Through hazy eyes, Amélie took a closer, more careful look at Tracer's position between her legs, and her eyes shot wide open at seeing Lena's ass in the air again. This time however, she could see the outline of the Brit's fingers peeking out from below the orange spandex.

"Ahhh fuck...Mérde...cherri, Leeena...d-don't...mmmmhaah~!" Widowmaker threw her head back into the pillow upon realizing the incredibly-hot fact that Tracer was touching herself while working her oral magic between the sniper's legs.

Tracer's oral ministrations were by no means ineffective, but the addition of those fingers, coupled with the skilled, dare she say dexterous, application of her tongue, and the sniper felt her iron-clad resolve rust.

"Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiii!" She moaned out to the ceiling, her body wracked with similar spasms to those that she had sent Lena into earlier, while knowing through the sound of her lover's voice, that Lena was herself orgasming around her own fingers.

Tracer would have stopped at that, at bringing Amélie to orgasm...but given the rush of heat that exploded within her own body at her frenetic masturbation while pleasuring Widowmaker, and then, that incredibly-sexy cry of release coated with Amélie's absolutely exquisite French accent...it all made Lena have another orgasm just a few scarce seconds after the first. Thus, Tracer didn't stop ravishing Widowmaker's convulsing and gushing pussy with neither her mouth nor fingers. If anything, the Brit sped up, losing herself to pleasure and Amélie's voice in the throes of passion.

About a minute after the orgasms had started, the two women had cried out until their voices were rendered hoarse. The both of them collapsed in a heap on the bed, brown hair mixing with midnight black as they cuddled together in the afterglow.

Their desire for each other utterly satisfied, Tracer and Widowmaker, Lena and Amélie succumbed to sleep after sharing one final kiss for their weekly evening together, eyes gazing into each other even as they fluttered shut once exhaustion and satisfaction finally set in.

Before they let the warm darkness envelope them, they gave each other's joined hands a gentle squeeze, a reassurance that, despite the fact that either woman would wake up alone in that bed the next morning, they would see each other again, be it on the battlefield or in the bedroom.

And that was alright. Lena and Amélie were, after all, each other's little secret and they relished in that knowledge.

 **FIN**

 **In lieu of Omega-kun being asleep at the time of writing this note, he leaves this message: "Neither Major or I have played Overwatch... But that doesn't mean that we are opposed to playing, just a lack of funds." And I myself may never play "Overwatch" because I don't play online shooters, period, much less MOBA-style shooters, period. LOL**

 **Still, despite never having played a single minute of this game, Widowmaker and Tracer are absolutely beautiful and sexy and guys, Tracer's arse broke the internet better and faster than Miley Cyrus herself could ever dream, amirite? :D**

 **Booty jokes aside, this is just a naughty little piece that Omega-kun and I put together and here's hopin' that you beautiful fellas, guys and girls, that took the time to read this will appreciate and reward our efforts with a nice little review down below, yeah~?**

 **So, thanks for reading and we'll see you on…well…whatever story for whatever fandom Omega-kun and I decide to co-op write next! LOL**

 **Semper-Fi! Carry on!**


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